I do, appreciate
genius
maestro the sad
but let him
stay
let him go
in shade
let his skull
indulge
in silicon tits!

for, now we go
to intolerant lands
of sterile oceans

all elements of East Coast
culture are here
but NSA has
all under control!
in vain we warred,
tons of martyrs
died
and still, castles of cards
flutter
and red coats are slaughtered

back to our desert
sweet!
the way it is
there slobbering ’s a
forgivable sin,
deserted it may be
and uncrowded,
but of hotheads
free!

capstans stand for brains
they squeak
as threads
smolder
all is in poems placed
even the dung
of scarabs…
lo, huge structure
spawns!

in this epic,
miraculously,
my old
rusty voice
hatches from lye
(though barely moving)
hoi! (hear it
shout)
hoi! hooey!
but quickly hides
in mohair
it knows what next will pass!

do you eat crap
indulging in curtailed
moon?
here some
nostalgias
and whole caravans
with distaffs
wreathing tiny lines
to cover their mouths

what comes from mouth… hey!
but they are like
poodles
dressed to
croak over
gorge
of bitches
hanging murdered from
billboards
but then I turn around and
see them
disappear

sad are their gags
as I disperse them
with mushroom flambé
and sulfonmethane stench…
who do they think they can quip?
science serving poetry – hey!
drop dead shall they
epigones of Warhol
and leave all the fish…
let them smuggle their
unused
spatial chemotherapy

let them stretch
those silicone knees
along the boulevard of stars

what one pelican can
catch
three seagulls can’t
crap!

x-ray had left
me an
unforgettable memento:
when I accidentally fell,
my spleen mixed with
slivovitz
I mutated into one
Kerempuhfor it never was
that somehow it wasn’t …
and all you can see
on the outtake
eh, isn’t that something…
even Buddha suffered
from swollen eye bags
since for months he gazed
into elephant cow’s enhanced
trunk

not even the recent defeat of
the Alien
discouraged me;
they must have, I’m sure,
coughed obit after him,
eye witnessing scraping of
dead mujahedin,
and their dirty gowns;
from headlines
of, there… happenings

but nothing is like
rennet
of our struggling!

all I need is to
sing
and hoard winds
into the wild
hams

and so on…
from change to
change of
mood
until my emissaries are
back,
my hoarse singers
with news of
armistice
between horses and donkeys,
stag-beetles and scarabs

even daguerreotype
would not work
here
in vain is your dark
chamber
all is in doughnut’s
perspective:
dead children
and parents drunk
roll down the streets
potato like

and who will bring order?
the one who was disjointed?
the spreading one?
the one suckling vitriol
with rattlesnake in his
ear?
they’ll shit sheep dung
until choking
and shoeless feet
will step onto rice fields of
Machiavellians…
eh, my armless Cleo
even Kaváfis could not
versify you like I
and not to mention,
what did we in the nights…

blabber-stirring
there, sweating
baritone in chopped onions
(and from the front row
they suckle lemon before him)
lips tightened
he could hardly squeak
yet relentlessly puffing out
tailcoat…
no, no, I will not respond
to that appeal
even for the sake of all Biafra’s dead

all is somehow
lopped
from fluttering mirages
to locust in flight
and even this cultural
staleness
of crocodile jelly bone
don’t enter into my
nervous hand
without my joints
crackling
over there, behind
the praising ones

rarely the
Charlemagne’s
were shy
now everything is
lethargic
coatings are spoiled
fireplaces rowed off
de-canned gigglers,
someone’s test-tube
cracked
and romanticists
dressed in
micro-fiber gabardine

what bothers me most
is that juggler
juggles not
bullfrogs;
sadness crushed me

even the March hare
runs by
in hurry after
biometric paddock
and so much money thrown
on research
to moderate
marsupial
extinction

due cremating
all airports are
closed.
my throat is full
with kerosene.
I don’t understand this
mileage of theirs
sky gnats
sagging in
containers
and yet they say
George blessed it all

but let them be,
at least the panties
will stay dry
eh! I’m not in peace from
care after
corpulence
I’ll take it apart like a doll
all the way to its
elastics
and coffer can still
wait

he’s singing like
Vogon admiral,
saws death
everywhere
his beard melding with
chest
his ears ashy from
yodeling
can be heard all the way through here
in Hormuz strait

springs fell out from
the mattress
and my bottle’s empty

heavy is depression
overwhelming me

I had no time to turn about
when toothless greyhound
wobbled by the
grinding site
sat right into spittle
chewing corn cob;
news spread fast:
Burgundy is nearing
collapse
and Scandinavia
is just about

who will yet adore
that dog-pound
massage
when even bone-glue
doesn’t stink as before?
in-an’-out, in-an’-out
they killed all chocolate
addicts
smoke comes out their
assholes like etchers
for Durer’s copper-plate,
constipation in their gut –
they smell of caramel!
and all is a consequence of
ka-ka-phrenia

steadily walks
(and secretly takes Prozac);
the knickers
drag chained strikebreakers
and high resolution
spreads ‘im all over
the world
but all that is garbage
upon which will stumble the
unlucky Taliban:
they squat in gutters and wait
while the boss is showing off
cutting deals

until he flew into air in
Baghdad
where they shucked him,
the same ones who used to
bribe him with plain
bracelets made from
pumpkin seed
ha! ha! ha!
was I glad
when concrete beam
fell
upon the overpass

by the way, the description
of system looks like
this: all is yellow
there’s no people
and carcasses tumble,
battle poisons
here and there
among the starved inhabitants
of northern marshes.
geography awaits
mapping
and the mouflon
spend money
on Indian pornography,
mass of people push
around flooded docks
heads like beans
they’re very restless

it wasn’t happy like this
ever since the sinking of
Titanic
and if Hiroshima happened
by any chance
at the beginning of war
it would be the end of war
eh, if only Yukio became the Emperor…

but now, hurricanes devastate
and dromedaries scratch on
birches
even the surfers didn’t
profit
since their
big whites
stayed unpacked
and coffers full of
pharmacologist’s spam

he blackens his moustache with soot
and poses for
a magazine
and his space ships
parked in the
ninth circle;
there they fry,
captains and cormorants
and maids fixing coffee for
Eichmann

to none shall I
woo.
took off my socks
loused
and now I’m tickling
fan like muscles
on biffed
Barbie’s fat
tummy

even bunnies
didn’t freeze
when the
strike battalion
of Las Vegas barons
arrived
their bears clinched
lynxes and brent-geese
so now head cheese is frizzing
wrapped in condoms

we, of course,
pork don’t eat

but then I’ve had my bottle
filled
with spanks

I’m weltered in
utter lawlessness.
I took a French leave
under their very
funnel
while they were raining
artillery correctives
and their missiles
sagging to the
lobster’s ankles

and I stuck them on
rotten egg.

until tornado
hit Hamburg
no one believed in
Singularity
and then
eye mucous realized
that Doberman
took away the joke
and that from desert arises
a new world’s power –
the necrophiliac!

then all those
whirligigs
rushed to
Wal-Mart’s’
as hoses and
bracelets
rolled
everywhere,
rajas and red mullets
caught upon
aspirators,
trombones
choked toilets:
their noise was heard
in Iraq and Ur

even the Siberians
didn’t fare better
their rubber boot-tops
languished
and the rein-deer heehawed
from Amur to Chara
mountains grew from
flatlands
due Viagra overdose,
they got hooked on
electronic mail

he traveled like Sinbad
but his charter got
stranded in Gstaad –
nosey,
his paprika
burnt
and his tick got
sour
scurf fell on
white elephant’s
armchair
and then he was awed
and led into impeachment

after him I liked the
best to
sniff.

hey, what somnambulists
were they!

we gave them all the
best
but they got rusty
spreading milk skim on trunks
and stacking butts
in butt-lines
and sipping vermouth
and bull

they needed strength for
coli-flowering

but their Chevy run-stabbed
into their
plexus
so they puked
hogwash on
Rolexes